Conversations: Julien Seroussi
I caught up with art dealer and collector Julien Seroussi, owner of Natalie Seroussi, in June at La Palette to chat about building the perfect inventory, mega-galleries playing museum, his career shift from research and investigating war crimes to selling masterpieces, and the delicate choreography between galleries, museums and market prices. Our conversation was part of a series of interviews in the context of a research project exploring the dynamics of (private) museum interaction with the art market and contemporary iterations of arts patronage.
Our conversation was part of a series of interviews in the context of a research project exploring the dynamics of (private) museum interaction with the art market and contemporary iterations of arts patronage.
When you strike gold, you naturally want to hold onto some of it rather than part with it all, if you can.
LW: You have a rather fascinating approach as an art dealer. You don’t simply sell, you trade, exchanging one work for another, gradually building what could be considered the ultimate inventory. Why? And was it different when you were younger and your mother was running the gallery?
Julien Seroussi: I follow in my parents’ footsteps, Natalie and Leon Seroussi, but I’ve deliberately shifted my focus towards building the ultimate inventory. As for why: well, when you strike gold, you naturally want to hold onto some of it rather than part with it all, if you can. Of course, it’s challenging to run a gallery on that basis when you’re just starting out… but it ought to be a long-term ambition: to set aside exceptional works as you go. You have to believe in your business, and in your eye.
LW: So for you, this is really about assembling a personal collection, not about managing prices the way some dealers might slowly drip feed works into the market to ensure demand always exceeds supply?
Julien: Yes, it’s far more personal for me. I’m not attempting to control the market - partly because I operate in a market that’s extremely difficult to manipulate in the first place.
LW: Especially with so many secondary market pieces in circulation, that sort of control becomes nearly impossible.
Julien: Exactly. We also enjoy acquiring contemporary works, or pieces by emerging artists. We find it interesting to create a dialogue between these and the other works we own. At the moment, we’re showing Martin Boyce in the gallery, and if you look closely, there in the window, you’ll spot a small Calder tucked inside one of his pieces.
LW: From the looks of it, you seem to have found a way to merge the private passion of collecting with your professional life as an art dealer.
Julien: Building the “ultimate inventory” is a family passion - a drive that I inherited from my parents and that I hope to one day pass on to my children. Collecting art is about far more than financial investment - there are deep emotional ties involved. However, there’s also a very practical incentive to keep trading works. As the market develops and values rise, those gains can be reinvested to expand and refine other parts of the collection. There’s a kind of circular logic at play, the business side sustains the passion, and the passion, in turn, fuels the business.
LW: To further perfect the collection. So what’s the ultimate ambition? Do you imagine one day displaying the collection publicly, donating it to a museum, or keeping it within the family?
Julien: My view is that there are already quite enough museums, adding another might not be necessary. There was a museum exhibition some years ago called Passions Privées, which showcased works held in French private collections. That title sums it up quite well, I think: passion doesn’t require a goal, it feeds itself. You pour time, energy, and money into it. And if you’re lucky, and make sound decisions, the market might reward you in return.
LW: So for you, the joy lies in the process of collecting itself.
Julien: Exactly. When friends visit the house, we enjoy discussing the works, sharing them in that more intimate setting, it sparks conversation, it brings the collection to life in a different way.
LW: And of course, you grew up surrounded by art. This is a continuation of something that should feel natural to you.
Julien: I did grow up with art, but the art also grew up with us. My parents started from scratch. The works weren’t there when I was a child; I watched the collection take shape as I grew up, to the point where I eventually changed careers. I was originally a researcher, a PhD and I lectured in sociology at the University of Paris. For ten years, I also worked as an investigator at the International Criminal Court, focusing on war crimes and crimes against humanity. It was quite a different life. My first major ambition was in public service, and once I had achieved that, it created space for something else to grow - this family passion for art, which had always been there. Eventually, I decided to take over the gallery… and shift my career from war crimes to art.
Building the “ultimate inventory” is a family passion
LW: What factors inform your programming decisions? Given your strong focus on the secondary market, there aren’t a lot of ultra-contemporary waves you can ride, though I know you like to incorporate something current from time to time. What’s your philosophy? Some galleries align their programme closely with market or institutional trends, for obvious reasons.
Julien: We’re a boutique gallery, meaning we focus on building the strongest possible inventory and on finding the right collector for a particular work. More often than not, it’s actually the client who finds us. That suits us well, since we’re playing the long game. We’re not especially strategic when it comes to programming. Occasionally, a synergy presents itself and we’ll pursue it — and that’s brilliant. When we do show contemporary artists, we look for those whose work holds its own in a conversation with modern pieces. That tends to mean artists with an already substantial body of work and a certain level of maturity in their practice. Very young artists, however talented, can sometimes suffer from the comparison. You’re putting them up against works that have stood the test of time. So curating that balance thoughtfully is really the essence of our approach, if you like. And timing is key. Pairing a contemporary artist with a modern one at just the right moment can lend historical depth to one and new energy to the other. We did a Calder and Tomás Saraceno show: a match made in heaven.
LW: So you’re guided more by curiosity and intellectual coherence than by commercial strategy.
Julien: I think both aspects matter. I am running a business and I need to find the right home for the right work. In fact, I would say that what we do is two-fold matchmaking between modern and contemporary art and between a work and a collector. And that takes time. To be in a position to do that, you have to have built a gallery with a certain level of stability and resources behind it.
LW: Which is a rather enviable position.
Julien: Perhaps, but also a deliberate choice. I’d rather maintain this scale and preserve that freedom, than expand for the sake of it and find myself too involved with the art fair circuit, chasing commissions and short-term wins.
LW: What’s your take on the financialisation - now seemingly on steroids - of the art world?
Julien: (laughs) Well, it’s been that way for over 40 years now. I’d say it really began in the '80s. And to be fair, it did open the market up. The auction houses — which bear a close resemblance to stock exchanges — did an exceptional job bridging those two worlds. That’s benefitted everyone. In fact, the financialisation of the art world is precisely what allowed us to elevate the gallery in a way that didn’t rely on the more traditional model of growth — opening new locations, running a marketing machine…That would have changed my day-to-day and, I suspect, my priorities.
LW: There is a certain tier of galleries has carved out this new space for themselves in which they now operate as luxury companies. I’ve also been observing that some are melding their commercial operation with something more closely resembling a type of museum activity, staging non-selling exhibitions that are curated to the nth degree, highly academic. Almost a legitimising strategy.
Julien: Absolutely, and the mega-galleries have the resources to pursue that model. But they don’t have large inventories. They work almost exclusively on consignment. The owners might have their own private collections, but the gallery itself is essentially a luxury show room, albeit one that hosts museum-quality shows as part of its promotional strategy.
Pairing a contemporary artist with a modern one at just the right moment can lend historical depth to one and new energy to the other.
LW: I would assume you also sell to quite a few museum clients?
Julien: Yes, certainly, a great many, in fact. We've built longstanding relationships with curators over the past decades.
LW: This might seem like an obvious question, but it’s worth asking nonetheless: would you say private museums , the truly major ones, operating on the same level as national galleries, tend to come in with bigger budgets?
Julien: Yes, absolutely. They often have significantly larger budgets and, perhaps more crucially, a far swifter decision-making process. Selling to an institution like the Pompidou, for example, can take up to a year. In contrast, with major private institutions, there’s no need to assist with fundraising for acquisitions - they’re typically ready to move. That said, selling to any kind of museum, public or private, is deeply rewarding. It benefits the artist, the museum, and the gallery alike.
LW: There definitely is a kind of symbiotic relationship between the market—collectors, dealers, galleries—and museums. On one hand, there's this long-standing notion that museums “decommercialize” artworks by performing the noble act of taking them off the market. Yet at the same time, they generate interest and contribute to price increases by endorsing certain artists or works. They’re not nearly as removed from the market many insist they are, as though it were somehow scandalous to suggest otherwise.
Julien: Naturally. It’s a collaboration between galleries and museums, and one that’s not controversial. Museums aren’t in the business of discovering new work; their role is to bestow recognition. It’s up to galleries—particularly young ones—to identify emerging talent. Selling to museums is simply one of the outcomes of that process. Or to be more precise: younger galleries perform the first round of selection by championing new artists, then more established galleries develop the secondary market. That is typically the stage at which museums enter the picture.
LW: You just mentioned that museums “acknowledge.” For some, the idea that “museums are never neutral” might sound provocative. But it was never their job to be neutral. Quite the opposite—they actively define the canon, and in doing so, shape art history itself.
Julien: Yes, they certainly contribute to it—but so do others.
LW: It’s a collective effort.
Julien: Precisely. No single player can shape the canon alone. It's worth remembering that much of what museums do is ultimately about selling tickets, not necessarily about writing art history, but about filling their programming calendar. When galleries propose compelling ideas and can also assist with funding an exhibition, it’s naturally quite appealing for a museum to collaborate. We don’t represent any estates ourselves, but from what I understand, there are instances where museum exhibitions have been brought to life in close partnership with galleries representing an artist’s estate. Major galleries like Gagosian or David Zwirner, with their considerable resources, often help bring large-scale museum shows to fruition, particularly in institutions that may boast excellent reputations but lack the financial means to realise such projects on their own. More generally speaking “entertainment”, “luxury”, “art”, and “culture” should not be viewed in isolation - these worlds intersect, and the actors within them constantly inform and influence one another. Museums are very much embedded in this broader ecosystem.
Museums aren’t in the business of discovering new work; their role is to bestow recognition. It’s up to galleries - particularly young ones - to identify emerging talent.
LW: What makes the market tick in terms of prices, in your view?
Julien: One defining factor is the broadening of the collector base. When more people flood into a relatively small market, demand and prices inevitably rise. Auction houses and young galleries play a key role in bringing new collectors on board. But honestly, there’s no magic formula—otherwise, we’d all be using it.
LW: Yet everyone’s searching for “the” magic formula.
Julien: It really boils down to understanding and speaking to people’s needs. Like any kind of merchandise, if you can fulfil a genuine need, you’re likely to succeed. So the crucial task is identifying that need. That’s why it takes time for an artist to become established. In the early stages, things are more experimental—a sort of game, if you will. Then at some point, people begin to take the work more seriously, and that’s when prices start to climb. However, this should never be taken for granted. In the seventies, Alexander Calder’s work was taken less seriously and dismissed as playful. It required considerable effort and dedication from the gallery, the Calder Foundation, and major collectors to elevate
LW: There’s always a great deal of work behind the scenes. Price formation is far less random or esoteric than many would like to believe.
Julien: True. Building a market takes time, and a huge intellectual investment, including scholarly engagement. But crucially, the art must resonate with the public, it has to hit a nerve. To then endure and secure a place within the art historical canon requires even more. As Jean-Luc Godard said, “Culture is everywhere, art is the exception.”
Statements from this conversation may not be used for any other purpose or by anyone else without the consent of Julien Seroussi and Louisa Krämer-Weidenhaupt.